


The Ways In Which Love Destroys Us

by Cas_tellations



Series: The Stars Above Us, Declaring Our Fate. [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Daniel Howell - Freeform, Fluff, Happy Ending, I worked so hard on this, M/M, Phan Angst, Phan Fluff, Phil Lester - Freeform, i worked really hard yknow, its the last fic i'll ever write for the phandom lmao, listen this is Good Shit, not even sorry about that, pbb2k17, phandombigbang, pls read this i poured my heart and soul into it, this is my literal pride and joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_tellations/pseuds/Cas_tellations
Summary: Love. That's what they're trying to find. But it's hard when it's been so long and they aren't the same star-struck teenagers that they used to be.It's been two months since they got back together and sometimes trying to make things right is all they can do.





	The Ways In Which Love Destroys Us

**Author's Note:**

> So this monster of a fic is finally done! I'm so excited to share it with the world because honestly it means so much to me.  
> This fic is fictional; but so much of it was taken from my own life. The bookshop where they live is a real shop, of course it's not called fayecastle like the one in this fic, but it's still very much a place out there. The books are stacked hight and scattered about everywhere. I love that place with all my heart.
> 
> Music played a huge role in the writing of the fic, so I compiled a bunch of songs that catch bits and pieces of this fic in them. You can listen to this playlist here: [Love Perhaps](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLj6d8B0C3s2L2tN8NZ8YiycxCS1iXd8_S)
> 
> For this pbb I had the amazing opportunity which ended in having a whole song written on this fic! That's so cool I'm still crying it sounds so good! You can listen to that here: [ Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=feuDuEa21HE)
> 
> I'll save the sappy end notes for thanking everybody who made this possible, so for now, please enjoy the story.

_ The Ways In Which Love Destroys Us _

_ ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ _

  
  


Two months and five days. 

 

Two months and five days since Phil had kissed Dan, standing on Dan’s doorstep, the stars shining brightly down on them. It had been two months and seven days since Phil had officially asked Dan out. None of that seemed like enough time. Everything was just… slipping away quickly. How many new firsts has he let slide through his fingertips, not truly appreciating them whilst they were happening? 

 

Time, however relative, was going by too fast. 

 

Just over two months and Phil’s life has changed so much, re-molding himself to fit better with Dan. Had it worked? Were they happy? Was their love genuine? Questions and worries plague Phil’s mind, though he does do his best to shove them away.  _ Yes, it had worked. Yes, they are happy. Yes, they do love each other.  _  But it was just that two months seemed like such a short amount of time. Too short to be living together already. Too short to be changing everything for the other. Especially after all they’ve been through. 

 

He shouldn’t be thinking like this. It isn’t healthy. And yet, it’s all he can think of. 

 

He’s sitting on the edge of his and Dan’s bed. Moving in together had seemed like the most practical idea; Phil’s small flat above his bookshop is closer to the lawyer’s office that Dan works at than Dan’s old flat, which had been a good fifteen-minute walk away from Phil’s. That wasn’t far, not by any extent, but being closer to the lawyer’s office was more convenient for Dan, and, well… At the time, Phil hadn’t exactly complained all that much. Their relationship had been brand new - just over two weeks - and they had been overly happy and excited. 

 

Their relationship still  _ is  _ brand new - two months is hardly anything. 

 

Two months. And that’s all Phil can think about. How short the amount of time is that they’ve been together. They’ve already told  each other that they love the other. Again, isn’t that too soon? 

 

Isn’t everything going by too quickly? Phil wants to grab onto the little amount of firsts that they have left and hold them tight so that he can appreciate them properly when they do happen. 

 

Phil shifts a bit and the bed creaks below him. It reminds him that he has to get a new  one sometime soon - this one had come with the flat, and the bed frame was cracked and falling apart in some  places. Dan had laughed when he saw it, a delighted look on his face, and had said that it ‘added character’ to the whole ‘aesthetic of the room’. That is, if by aesthetic he meant half-finished projects and quickly dying plants. Like the rest of the admittedly quite small flat, Phil’s - now Phil and Dan’s - bedroom is filled to the brim with books. Dan calls it hoarding and is constantly trying to convince Phil to give up some of his books, though Phil refuses to part with them. He likes keeping little things, especially things that held great amounts sentimental value, like books. Besides, he hasn’t even read all of their stories yet, so there’s no way he can possibly get rid of them. 

 

Dan likes keeping little sentimental things too, though it’s incredibly difficult to get him to reveal that to anyone. When Dan had moved in with Phil, and they were unpacking the large quantity of boxes, Phil had merely raised an eyebrow at a very embarrassed looking Dan when he dropped a shoe box that had burst open in a flurry of odd bits of paper and knick-knacks.  Examples being the napkin that Phil had doodled on so many years ago on their first ever date at Nandos,  or a glow-in-the-dark star that had fallen off of Dan’s friend’s ceiling whilst having a sleepover with him. And Dan, being as afraid of the dark as he was, had held it tight in his hands at started at it’s faint glow until sleep had taken him over. 

 

So no, you’d be hard-pressed to get Dan to admit it, but he does hold sentimental things just as close to him as Phil does. The difference being that Phil finds sentimental value - and just plain old  _ value  _ \- in things that haven’t necessarily done much for him. That horrible batman comic book that he had picked off a shelf at a thrift shop when he was eight? He’s never read the comic, in all these years, but if you sift through his large collection of things, you’ll find it there eventually. Because maybe, one day, he  _ might  _ read it so he may as well keep it around. 

 

Phil’s tall enough that even though the bed is raised quite a bit off the ground, his feet can still lay completely flat against the carpeted floor. Dan teases him about his height sometimes, simply because Dan himself is so much shorted than Phil. Well, not  _ so much  _ shorter, but still, there was a considerable four-inch difference between their heights. Dan, if he was sitting here next to Phil, wouldn’t be able to lay his feet flat against the floor  in the manner that Phil is currently doing. 

 

Dan talks in his sleep. 

 

Phil has known this for years, but even to this day, it never fails to bring a soft smile to his face.  It’s usually just obscure mumbling, but every once in awhile he’d say something completely ridiculous, like during one of their first sleepovers where Dan had said something about how he had to ‘save his bunnies from the angry wrath of the pigeon gods ’ .

 

At this current moment however, Dan’s staying blissfully quiet, the only sound in the room being the occasional snore.

 

Phil flops backwards to lay down, physically cringing at the loud groan of the bed, accompanied by a crack that was no doubt the bed breaking even more. He shimmies back to get under the duvet, pulling a little bit of it off of Dan so that he can be fully covered. Asleep-Dan doesn’t seem to care. Maybe he’s too busy dreaming about the pigeon gods. 

 

Phil’s arms lay limp at his sides. He’s breathing slowly, evenly, and he should be asleep, he really should. The bright numbers on a dusty old alarm clock are screaming at him to sleep. And yet, he’s not. He’s not sure exactly  _ why  _ he can’t sleep, but there’s an unsettled feeling somewhere in his stomach and his eyes refuse to stay shut for more than five seconds. 

 

Dan grumbles in his sleep and subconsciously rolls towards Phil, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and cuddling into his side. Phil sighs, but shifts closer all the same. 

 

Dan’s body is warm and soft as it always is. He’s really not the best at sleeping calmly - his lips are parted and he’s currently drooling all over Phil’s shoulder but Phil doesn’t have the heart to push him away. 

 

Phil’s mind wanders to the past. 

 

It’s not that he  _ unhappy  _ nowadays, more like he was just more  _ comfortable  _ during certain points in the past. More comfortable and secure. 

 

Of course, there’s no way that he can go back in time to change things so that he could still feel that way. He doesn’t even think that he would change anything, given the chance. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. 

 

They had started dating for the first time when Dan was sixteen and Phil was seventeen. Phil can remember it almost perfectly even now, so many years later. Dan had been wearing his favorite flower crown, it was pink with soft blue shades mixed into it. Phil doesn’t think that he has it anymore. They had been laying on their backs in a huge grassy field in the countryside. There had been a slight wind, just enough to send Dan’s curls across his face, making it increasingly difficult to see. Their shoulders had been pressed together. Dan was pointing at strangely shaped clouds and laughing, “It’s you!” to which Phil would snort and shake his head vigorously, “No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong, it’s  _ you. _ ” 

 

Somehow Dan had ended up in Phil’s lap. It could have been because Phil had told him that he resembled a particularly ugly cloud, and Dan had wanted to prove him wrong. Phil knows that he had said several suggestive things. Of course one thing had led to another. Of course. The only problem was that they were too young and too stupid and kissing had seemed like way too much fun.  

 

Phil can remember that Dan tasted like summer and the feeling of being free. 

 

That’s how it had started. Getting hooked on a pastel boy who liked to be called a princess. 

 

It has been ten years since then. 

 

Ten years since spending hours laying in a field side by side, watching the clouds and talking in low voices. Not much had changed, and yet at the same time nearly everything has changed. 

 

Ten years, and they’re still laying next to one another. Except now, Phil has an uncomfortable feeling somewhere in his stomach and he can’t sleep no matter how tired his body is. Is this what they had come to? Late night musings on where they had gone wrong?  

 

Phil squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe if he just stays still enough for a long enough amount of time, sleep would take him. That is, if he was lucky. In truth though, he sincerely doubts that he’s going to get more than a couple hours of rest during this particularly night. His mind was just a tad too full. Of course, it isn’t always like this. Some nights he can sleep perfectly peacefully, but tonight just isn’t like that. 

 

He thinks that everything would be fine if they were taking things just a little bit slower.

 

He thinks that everything would be fine if they hadn’t broken up nearly six years ago. 

 

He thinks that everything would be fine if they had been different. 

 

Everything though, was not fine. And sometimes that's just how it is.

 

The first time that he had ever seen Dan in person he had thought: “That boy is too damn pretty.” That point, so many years later, still stands. Dan is the physical manifestation of everything  _ pretty.  _ Some may describe him as  _ cute  _ or even,  _ beautiful,  _ but nothing quite matches him like the word ‘pretty.’ 

 

Pretty. So pretty, even now when he’s drooling on Phil’s shoulder and muttering incoherently in his sleep. His hair is curly and his lips are plump and his eyelashes are long and his eyebrows are shaped perfectly. 

 

Fragile, too though. 

 

So goddamn fragile. 

 

And with that, Phil drifts into sleep.

 

-

 

He’s awoken by someone grumbling loudly about something that Phil really couldn’t care less about. God, he shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night. He’s really going to pay for that today. But then again, he physically  _ hadn’t  _ been able to sleep. Strange.

 

His eyes feel heavy. Maybe he can get away with simply falling back asleep. 

 

His plans are thwarted by a very ruffled-looking Dan, who is currently trying to rip the duvet off of Phil’s exhausted body. It feels too early for this. Why would Dan be trying to wake him up? His brow furrows, even in his deep state of barely awake. 

 

“ _ Phil, _ ” he says loudly, exasperatedly. 

 

And no, now that Phil’s tired he really just wants to sleep for twelve years and then another twelve years after that. Too tired to be awake. 

 

But Dan is persistent. He nudged Phil’s cheek lightly with the back of his hand, the action a borderline caress. Phil’s eyes flutter open and he’s greeted with a soft smile from Dan, “Good morning nerd,” 

 

“Morning.” Phil grumbles back. His voice is abrupt, but then again he’s never been much of a morning person, “it’s too early,” 

 

“No it’s not,” Dan argues lightly, “it’s past 10am.” 

 

He hasn’t stopped smiling yet. 

 

Phil’s face suddenly has confusion written all over it, “why are you still at home then?” 

 

Dan usually works pretty early. And then come home pretty late. Unless it was the weekend, in which case he was usually at home sitting on the sofo scrolling through the internet or embarking on the hell that is starting a new anime. Phil was usually down in the bookshop, sorting through everything or helping customers. Needless to say, they didn’t spend nearly enough time together than they should be -- living together and all that. 

 

“Because,” Dan starts, but then pauses to quickly cup one of Phil’s cheeks in his hand and then kiss him on the lips quickly. “We’re gonna go on a date.” 

 

“We are?” 

 

“Yep.” Dan says. 

 

“I don’t remember asking you out on a date,” Phil says, his voice still laced with a bit of confusion. Don’t blame him, he’s just woken up and is still half asleep.

 

“That’s because you didn’t,” Dan seems amused by Phil’s sleepy state, “I did.” 

 

“You did?” 

 

“Phil d’you wanna go on a date with me?” Dan rushes. Laughter is crinkling his eyes. 

 

“I mean- yeah but-” 

 

“There!” Dan says triumphantly, “I asked you. So we’re going on a date.”

 

“I-... um. Alright,” Phil reaches up to grab Dan’s arms and pulls him back down to the bed. Dan lays half on top of Phil, his cheek pressed against Phil’s chest. Phil ducks down to kiss the top of Dan’s head. 

 

Dan sighs, content. 

 

It’s now when Phil questions himself. Why had he been so dramatic last night?  _ Of course  _ they’re in love. 

 

-

 

Dan’s smile lights up whatever room he’s in. It has always been that way. Even on the worst days, if that damn boy smiled, Phil’s spirits were raised significantly. 

 

It happens now, in the corner of a crowded restaurant, Dan’s laughing. He covers his mouth with his hand, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. His shoulders shake and all Phil can think about is that  _ he  _ caused this, this beautiful laugh. 

 

He made this happiness happen, with an admittedly lame joke, but still. He made Dan smile and that’s what counts. 

 

He doesn’t ever want Dan to stop smiling. Not now, not ever. 

 

Hours later, they find themselves in a park, lying side by side in the shade of a giant maple tree. Dan has flowers in his hair, tangled throughout his curls and tucked behind his ears. Phil has a smile on his lips and his mind in infatuated with  _ Dan.  _ Everything about him, really. 

 

It’s weird, how he can go from questioning  _ everything  _ in the early hours of the morning to be so sure of their love later in the afternoon. 

 

That’s what Dan does to him; convinces him of their love with simply being there. 

 

Dan points at a cloud, “look how weird that one is. It reminds me of you.” 

 

“But it’s literally just a blob. It doesn’t look like me at all.” 

 

“That’s the whole point!” Dan laughs again, airily.  

 

By the time they go home, their chests feel light and happy and their hearts are beating in unison. Dan had tucked a daisy into the pocket of the collared shirt that he’s wearing. The clouds have cleared away completely, leaving the sky a beautiful pure azure. 

 

They hadn’t gone far from the bookshop, and as they get closer Phil can see the faded yellowing letters, declaring it’s name to be ‘Fayecastle’

 

They tumble through the door and before Phil can say anything Dan’s hand tugs him him close, crowding him against one of the what seemed like hundreds of bookshelves. He laces their fingers together and then rests his forehead against Phil’s shoulder. “Thankyou.” He says. 

 

“For what?” Phil questions. He ducks down to press a kiss to the top of Dan’s head. 

 

“For today.” Dan answers truthfully. When he looks up at Phil, his eyes are shining with unshed tears. Happy tears. God, Dan’s so emotional. But to be completely fair, so is Phil, so everything evens out in the end. 

 

“I should be the one thanking  _ you. _ ” Phil murmurs. 

 

Dan doesn’t answer. He just pulls himself closer to Phil and presses his lips to his cheek. “I love you.” 

 

-

 

Dan says that he loves Phil. A lot. Over and over again, for the littlest things. Sometimes not even for any particular reason. It was almost like he was making up for lost time, in a way. Those whole six years that they had spent apart, with no form of communication whatsoever. 

 

Those six  _ fucking  _ years. Phil doesn’t want to think about them. Doesn't want to think about when they had broken up. Really, really doesn’t want to think about the few weeks before and after the break up. 

 

None of that counts now, though. Because what really matters is that they’re together now. 

 

To be completely truthful, they  _ hadn’t  _ talked about their time apart. It was almost as if both of them were trying so very hard to just pick up where they had left off and forget about the not so happy moments that they had experienced in the past. 

 

Maybe that’s what’s freaking Phil out, making him question Dan’s love. 

The simple fact that they hadn’t communicated through the months- no,  _ years  _ that they hadn’t been dating. And how they hadn’t gone back after to discuss everything that had happened. 

 

Maybe they should have. Maybe there’s still time to do just that. 

 

But they don’t. 

 

-

 

Phil wakes up to Dan gingerly climbing out of bed, seeming to be trying his best to not wake Phil. The sun hasn’t started streaming through their windows yet; the stars still shining brightly above the world. 

 

The air is thick with tension - completely and utterly different from yesterday's morning. 

 

Phil wants to say something, he really does. 

 

But he can’t. 

 

Because Dan’s face looks closed off and sad and there’s no trace of love in his eyes when he glances back towards the bed before hastily leaving the room. Phil can hear his soft footsteps echoing down the hallway towards the bathroom. 

 

He rolls onto his side. He has a headache. This is what he usually wakes up to though. Dan, leaving agonizingly early. Rarely a goodbye. And then, coming home, late and exhausted, having little energy to do more then peck Phil’s lips and stumble off to take a bath. God, Phil hates this. 

 

He pulls the duvet tighter over his body, seeking the little comfort that it can offer. Somehow, he drifts back off into sleep. 

 

Dan comes back into their room later, just before he leaves. Phil doesn’t wake up but Dan still leans over their bed to press a quick kiss to Phil’s forehead. 

 

-

 

The ‘Help Wanted’ sign that Phil tapes up against one of the windows in the Fayecastle doesn’t attract as much attention as he wishes it did. 

 

Ideally, Phil wants to not  _ have  _ to work as much, so that he can spend time with Dan instead of still having to sort through giant stacks of books, even after Dan comes homes. 

 

If only he didn’t have to deal with so much all at once. His shoulders are tired of holding the weight of the world. 

 

-

 

He goes up to the roof to look at the stars that night. No use in even attempting to sleep when his mind is so full. At least the stars calm him down. 

 

Dan had fallen asleep on the couch, in front of the coffee table, which was covered in what seemed like millions of pieces of paper from files on people - and how bad people could be sometimes. On the very corner of the table, teetering was a coffee mug, it’s contents cold.

 

And then of course, there had been Dan, curled up in the corner, bags under his eyes and curls cascading across his forehead. Before phil had left to go stargazing, he had draped a blanket over Dan’s unmoving form to keep him even the little bit warmer. Looking at Dan’s face had made his heart ache. He seemed so small and pure and  _ hurt,  _ with the dark bags under his eyes and the slight crease in his forehead. Even in sleep, he didn’t relax. 

 

But Phil doesn’t want to dwell on those facts now, because he’d already wasted so much time doing just that - dwelling on how tired and impossible small his boyfriend looks nowadays. It’s all caused from work, Phil knows that. Dan definitely doesn’t have an easy job by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a job that requires strength and motivation and a will to right some wrongs in the world. He has to fight for it so hard. And yes, it’s a job that comes with satisfaction too, but in order to get to that point he has to do  _ a lot.  _ Before Phil had come back into his life, he hadn’t been managing it  _ at all.  _ He was barely sleeping and eating, to the point where he was running on maybe 3 hour’s sleep over the course of a few days and probably hundreds of cups of coffee. 

 

_ That’s  _ when Phil had come back into his life. Right when Dan needed him the most. Or, alternatively, needed  _ someone.  _ It was purely a flunk that it had been Phil who had seen him - barely being able to stand - outside the lawyer’s office far past what Phil would assume his usual working hours were, fumbling with his phone, trying to call a taxi to pick him up. 

 

Phil, at that time, had been aimlessly walking around. Insomnia had made it impossible to sleep and, of course, going for a walk would help, right? 

 

He had recognized Dan’s silhouette right away, a huddled and thin shape under a streetlamp. 

 

And at first, he didn’t even think to stop. He was going to walk straight past and pretend he didn’t see Dan. That’s what he thought, until he got closer and saw how hunched Dan’s shoulders were and how they were shaking ever so slightly and how there were a few stray tears running down his cheeks. And then he was walking towards Dan without another thought because all that mattered right then and there was  _ Dan. _

 

He had helped him, holding a hand up to the small of Dan’s back to keep him steady, and keeping his voice soft when he spoke as to not stress Dan out more, “Let me help you, okay?” and then he had taken the phone gently out of Dan’s hands, “You want a cab, right?” He’s already calling the number when Dan nods his head ever so slightly. 

 

He wasn’t going to do it, but at the last moment, he had opened up Dan’s contacts and saved his number there. Just in case Dan needed him. Because he wanted to be there to help. Because he still wanted to be in his life to some extent. Because, because, because. So many reasons and yet the only one that really mattered was that  _ He wanted to see Dan again.  _

 

He had given the phone back to Dan, who shoves it in a pocket and then informs him that the car is on it’s way. 

 

In the present, Phil shakes his head lightly. 

 

He’s standing on the roof, under a blanket of stars. Thinking of the past isn’t helping him now. He puts his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and leans back on his heels, tilting his face towards the stars. 

 

Light pollution is a bitch, so he can only see a few constellations. Only a few  _ stars  _ for that matter. Of course, polaris is there. And he can see most of the big dipper, save for a few of the weaker stars. 

 

This is what he likes. Feeling like he’s completely alone - but not in a bad way. Because he’s not alone anymore. Because Dan’s there too, sleeping on the couch in a ball downstairs. Because Dan’s not going to leave him again, not this time. Because they rely on eachother.

 

-

 

Phil goes back inside in the early hours of the morning, with the knowledge that he’ll regret his choices when he wakes up. 

 

He’s surprised to see Dan awake, still curled up in the corner of the couch but this time in more or less an upright position, sipping on something in a mug that Phil can bet is hot chocolate. Phil’s heart gives a little jump. 

 

Dan leans forewards towards the coffee table, putting his mug down on a relatively small stack of papers and then leaning back into his corner, lifting up the edge of the blanket, a wordless invitation. Phil pads over, kissing Dan first on his cheek and then a bit harder, right on the corner of his mouth. He crawls under the blanket and lets Dan tuck it around the both of them. 

 

Dan’s body feels so warm and soft against Phil, and he snuggles closer to the shorter boy. Dan wraps an arm around Phil’s shoulders and Phil presses a chaste kiss to his jawline. 

 

Just as they’re both falling asleep, pressed up against one another, Dan says, “I love you.” 

 

And Phil, of course, murmurs, “I love you too.” Without thinking. 

 

-

 

The first time that Phil had seen Dan after their 6-year breakup, he had thought, “Why have you turned into this type of person?” Of course, he hadn’t said that out loud. But it was true. Dan - or at least, the Dan that Phil had grown to know and love over their teen years - had disappeared, leaving behind a much different version of Dan. it was still Dan. He was just so much differen. His hair lay flat instead of the voluminous curls that Phil was used to. His lips were chapped and faded, so unlike the plump pink lips that Phil had kissed countless times. He seemed smaller, somehow. Though maybe that was due to the fact that his shoulders were hunched and his eyes downcast. He used to stand up so straight, and with eyes so bright. 

 

Later, Dan tells him that he only went in the bookshop in the first place because it was raining and he didn’t want his hair and nice suit getting wet. But Phil still likes to think that some sort of fate had brought them together again, like Dan was somehow drawn to the Fayecastle. 

 

He remembers the he completely nerded out - not realising that it was  _ Dan  _ whom he was talking to at` first. Dan had pulled an old poetry book off a shelf - Phil can’t remember the name of the book - and had opened it, holding it right up near his face and inhaling deeply. Phil can relate to the love of the scent of old books and so he had started out with;

 

“It’s the chemical breakdown between-” But then his voice and train of thought alike had ended suddenly as the person who he was talking to, that is to say, Dan, looked up. 

 

And  _ oh.  _

 

Six whole entire years apart and then Dan showing up in his bookshop. All that Phil could think of at that moment was when they had broken up. In the most cliche way possible, with them both standing under the rain in the late evening, with tears and harsh voices and Dan saying, “I don’t love you anymore.” 

 

He knew that Dan was thinking the same thing because he took a step backwards, sharply. Suddenly. Like he didn’t want to but needed to. Phil had said, “Dan?” Because what else was he supposed to do and Dan nodded but didn’t look towards Phil’s eyes right away, opting instead for staring at Phil’s knees for a second. And then, he had looked towards Phil’s eyes and  _ god.  _

 

Dan looked so spaced out all of a sudden. His eyes had gone all unfocused until Phil had said his name again.  _ “Dan.”  _

 

That time, Dan had replied. Not with much, to be fair. But still. “Phil.” 

 

And Phil wondered if this is how Dan felt when Phil had said his name. He’s transported back to the rain and Dan almost yelling, over and over again, “I just don’t love you anymore!” and when Phil had asked why, more than once, Dan had replied with a lame; “We- we just… I-I can’t.” and he was crying  _ god,  _ Dan had cried so much. But right then, in the midst of a breakup, Phil still couldn’t bring himself to hate Dan. He could never bring himself to hate Dan, not after  _ everything  _ that they’ve experienced together. 

 

God, he had felt horrible. Like someone had just punched him  _ really hard  _ in the gut. 

 

They had stood in silence after that for a minute or so. Or maybe it had been seconds. Phil wasn’t paying attention, he had just been drinking in the fact that it’s  _ Dan.  _ Dan, right in front of him. And he’s not running away, at least, not yet. 

 

But he did run away eventually. He didn’t even look back as he slipped out of the bookshop, back into the rain. Phil knows that Dan had heard him calling after him, nearly begging him to  _ wait.  _

 

But Dan hadn’t. 

 

It was maybe a week later when Phil had called the cab for him outside of the lawyer's office. 

 

It was maybe another week after  _ that  _ when Phil had received a text from a number that he didn’t recognize, asking what Phil had meant in the bookshop when he started talking about chemical breakdowns. 

 

Two weeks after that and they had started texting regularly. About anything, really. Whatever was on either of their minds. 

 

Very shortly after that, they had gone out for coffee. And from there, it had only escalated. 

 

-

 

When he wakes up the next morning, the first thing that his brain registers is the fact that he’s no longer being held in Dan’s arms. His stomach drops a little, but he tries to ignore it. Because this is normal, this is fine. 

 

Except it really isn’t fine. 

 

He gets up, keeping the blanket that Dan had left on the couch wrapped around his shoulders like a cape, and wanders into the kitchen. It’s still early, maybe a little past six. Phil already regrets staying up so late last night. But there’s Dan, standing in front of the coffee maker, dumping a huge amount of sugar into a giant mug. 

 

“Goodmorning.” Phil grumbles, stumbling up behind Dan and wrapping his arms around his waist, ducking his head into Dan’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He leans heavily on Dan, hoping the he doesn’t crumble under the weight. 

 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, Mr. Lester.” Dan mumbles. 

 

Phil turns his head to kiss the side of Dan’s neck softly, “I won’t.” It’s almost a lie because Phil’s eyes are still shut and he’s pretty sure that he  _ could  _ fall asleep in this position. 

 

The coffee maker beeps and Dan pours most of the pot into his mug, stirring it around with a spoon for a second before adding a bit of cream and lifting it to his lips. Dan tries to walk away to put the cream back in the fridge, but Phil tightens his arms around Dan’s waist, holding him there. 

 

“Phil…” Dan chides, letting his voice trail off.

 

“No.” Phil grumbles, “stay here. With me.” 

 

In his hold, Phil can feel Dan’s body tense up at those words, but only slightly. 

 

“You know I can’t.” Dan sounds tired. Weary. 

 

“You did the other day,” Phil retorts. He knows that he sounds borderline childish. He can’t help it. 

 

“I did.” Dan agrees softly. 

 

“Yeah. You should do that more.” Phil whines, his voice slightly muffled by Dan’s shoulder. “It’s nice to have you around more.” 

 

“It’s nice to  _ be  _ around more.” Dan says, sighing at the end, “but it’s just not realistic.” 

 

“I wish it was.” Phil grumbles, tilting his head to the side to place another chaste kiss against the pale skin on Dan’s neck. 

 

“Me too.” Dan says, wistfully. 

 

“One day.” Phil promises. He pulls back from Dan, spinning him around so that they’re chest to chest and kisses his lips. Hard. Like he means it. 

 

-

 

Phil makes blueberry muffins. They end up not rising properly and being a bit too dry but he swears he followed the recipe perfectly. He think that Dan will appreciate them anyway. It’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? 

 

He makes sure to turn the oven off before stomping noisily down the creaky old stairs to the shop. 

 

The bookshop always looks the prettiest in the early morning, he thinks. Or at least, that’s his own personal opinion. The sun is only just now starting to rise, so the majority of the light in the shop came from the dozens of strings of fairy lights. They light up the spines of the books quite clearly, as well as add a certain level of aesthetic that most people strive to reach but never quite get there. 

 

Phil sighs heavily. His chest feels a bit too tight, but it’s fine. He blames it on sleep, which is still clinging to him. 

 

-

 

Weeks pass and the daily routine stays relatively the same. 

 

Every time that Dan leaves for work, Phil wants nothing more than to grab onto the cuff of his sleeve to stop his  from walking through the door. But that’s just not how reality works, it seems. Because every time that Dan leaves, all Phil can really do is say goodbye.

 

-

 

Dan’s sitting on the edge of their bed. His toes touch the floor. His elbows are resting on his knees and he’s holding his head in his hands. His shoulders shake. Whimpers escaped from his mouth and tears are streaking their way down his pale cheeks. 

 

It’s just past 2am, and Dan’s cracking under the pressure of  _ everything.  _ Phil shifts beside him. He’s still asleep, though he is on the verge of waking up.

 

Dan takes a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt at calming himself down. 

 

Mere minutes later, Phil wakes up. 

 

He’s instantly by Dan’s side, a hand on his lower back, his voice right next to Dan’s ear. 

 

Calming Dan down, but this point at least, is instinctive to Phil. It comes easily; but every time that Phil sees Dan like this, his heart breaks a little more. It’s not perfect.  _ They’re  _ not perfect. But they work through it. Work through Dan’s anxiety and Phil’s existential crises.  

 

Work through everything until all that should be left is happiness and love. 

 

Though maybe they just need to work a little harder to get to that point. 

 

-

 

The next night, a few hours after Dan returns home from work, Phil laces his fingers through Dan’s and tugs him through the thin doorway just off the lounge, and up some rickety steps to the roof.

 

They used to do this a lot, when they were younger. Phil  _ still  _ does it a lot, it’s just that he usually does it without Dan, simply for the reason that whenever Dan came home from work he was dead tired. And Phil had insomnia. 

 

But right now, they’re there together. For the first time in what feels like forever but was really more like a few weeks at most. 

 

Their past is woven around in the stars, bringing copious amounts of deja vu to both of them. It’s the exact same sky that they had laid underneath so many years ago. The constellations are same, an infinite amount of empty space broken up by countless bright white and sparkling stars. 

 

Phil’s lips find Dan’s automatically. It’s more raw and intimate than either of them are used to. Maybe it’s because the stars are watching. 

 

Somewhere between the time when their lips touch and when Dan moves a hand to cup Phil’s cheek, sighing contently, Phil says  _ I love you. _

 

-

 

_ It’s you, you know that, right? It’s always been you.   _

 

-

 

“You’re a good lawyer, Dan.” His boss says to him gruffly, “a damn good lawyer. One of the best!” 

 

“But…” Dan fills in for him. He knows thats coming. 

 

“But.” His boss says, “you’re dead on your feet. I haven’t seen bags that big under someone's eyes since my days back in uni. The amount of coffee that you consume is sure to be a world record… Your heart’s not in it anymore, son.” 

 

He pauses, and takes a deep breath before continuing, “When you got this job, you  _ wanted  _ it. You wanted to make a change, you wanted to do some good. Right?” He raises his eyebrows when Dan sighs.

 

“I did. Want to make a change, that is. When I first started working here… yeah. I wanted to  _ be  _ something.” 

 

“But. Before you started working here. You didn’t want this, did you? You didn’t want to be a lawyer?” 

 

Dan keeps his eyes downcast, staring at the dirty grey carpet of his office. “No.” 

 

“Exactly.” Dan looks up to see his boss smiling kindly. “It’s not an easy job.” 

 

“I know it’s not.” 

 

“It requires a lot of will to make a change.” 

 

“Yeah, it does.” 

 

“You’re a damn good lawyer, Daniel.” He says again. “But you don’t  _ want  _ this anymore.” 

 

Dan doesn’t have an answer to that. 

 

“Dan,” his boss’s voice is soft. He’s a good man. “You’re fired.” 

 

-

 

Phil’s in the back room when Dan gets home. He’s busy re-organizing books, going through them and setting some aside for orders and others to be put out by the front of the shop. 

 

The plants at the back of the shop -- mostly old withered and dead ferns -- really require some serious TLC. He makes a mental note for himself to bring them up to the front of the shop where the sun could hit them, hopefully reviving them a bit. He has to water them, too. The leaves are almost all brown. He hopes it’s not too late to save them. 

 

There’s lots of plants that are significantly healthier, enough that some people joke around and asking whether they’ve accidently walked into a garden shop in search of some antique books. Phil just likes the aesthetic of it, though he does often forget to water them, making the whole place look a little weathered down. 

 

Phil sighs a bit, leaning against one of the bookshelves and taking his phone out of his pocket, opening up twitter and then closing it right away again. He does the same with Instagram. At this point he’s just stalling. He opens spotify and puts some music on, being careful to keep the volume low so that any elderly customers who might be near the back won’t be assaulted with muse. 

 

He’s focused on the music just enough to not hear the bell on the door jingle as someone comes in. However, he  _ does  _ hear a loud sniffled sob right behind him. 

 

It’s Dan, of course it is. He’s reaching for Phil, taking a fist of his jumper and pulling him closer until their bodies collide and Dan can lean his whole body against Phil’s, his cheek pressed just over Phil’s heart. Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s small body, comfortingly running circles into his back. “What happened?” Phil asks softly. 

 

But Dan doesn’t even  _ try  _ to answer. He just clings to Phil and focuses solely on taking slow, deep breaths. 

 

They stay like that for a while, until Dan can breath normally and Phil doesn’t feel bad about pulling away a little and moving his hands to rest of Dan’s waist. Dan wipes the snot away from his nose with the a sleeve, and looks up at Phil through his eyelashes. 

 

“What happened?” Phil tires again. 

 

He’s glad that Dan doesn’t hesitate to tell him, or try to avoid it in any way. “I got fired.” He says evenly. 

 

If either of them wanted to say anything more, they didn’t. Phil just pulls Dan close again and presses a kiss to his forehead. 

 

-

 

Dan sleeps fitfully that night. Phil can’t sleep at all. 

 

-

 

Phil spends a good amount of the next day interviewing potential employees. Most of them are broke uni students desperate for any sort of employment. It’s tiring but by the end of the day Phil has two new employees. 

 

Max, a short red-haired boy who seemed to be able to make the best out of any situation (“Yeah, I’m doing this mostly for the money, but I’m sure I’ll have a great time working here!!” , “I couldn’t even afford a coffee from McDonalds! But I mean their coffee isn’t all that great in the first place so really it’s a good thing!”) 

 

And Layla, a quiet blond girl who was obviously just as much a bookworm as Phil. They spent a good half hour after the initial interview just to discuss various plot points in the Harry Potter series. (“Draco’s obviously the best character, he was just lonely!! Imagine what would have happened if Harry hadn’t been so rude to him in the first book.”) 

 

Dan spends all day in bed. He gets up once to use the washroom but other than that, he stays in bed, scrolling through his phone to distract himself from the world. 

 

Phil orders them pizza for dinner at around 7pm, grabs his laptop from the living room and then settles down in bed beside Dan, wrapping an arm around the other boy’s shoulder and turning on Netflix. Dan falls asleep against Phil’s chest after two episodes of Haikyuu and one slice of pepperoni pizza.

 

-

 

Phil actually sleeps properly that night. He has dreams instead of nightmares and wakes up feeling surprisingly well-rested. 

 

Dan is lying practically fully on top of him, snoring loudly. He’s drooling a bit too. 

 

Phil thinks,  _ ‘this might be alright.’  _ and,  _ ‘maybe not that he’s not working he’ll be less stressed and we can be happier together.’  _ and,  _ ‘I hope he doesn’t go looking for another job right away. I want to enjoy this.’  _

 

-

 

The day is light and happy. Phil wakes Dan up with kisses pressed against his skin, many hours later then when both of them usually wake up. They lay in bed for a while, lips finding the other’s lazily, hands trailing over the other’s body, comfort surrounding them. 

 

Later though, they end up in the kitchen, Phil’s music blaring from his laptop, and he’s singing along to the lyrics dramatically, grabbing excitedly at Dan’s hips to drag him closer, enough that they could dance. Dan laughs at Phil happily, going as far as to hum the tune of the song. That is, until Dan reaches over to Phil’s laptop and puts on All Star, smirking at Phil when he glares at Dan. 

 

“Embrace the meme!” Dan shouts over the music, his voice still with laughter in it. Phil refuses to embrace the meme. Whilst Dan’s shouting out the lyrics comically, Phil busies himself with making hot chocolate for Dan and tea for himself. He considers making pancakes but settles on cereal because that requires the least amount of effort. 

 

Dan comes up behind Phil when he’s pouring milk into a bowl, thoroughly covering all the cereal, “I love you.” He whispers into Phil’s ear. Phil shivers, and his stomach flips over. 

 

Now’s when he should say,  _ “I love you, too.”  _  But he can’t get himself to say it. 

 

He  _ does  _ love Dan. So, so much. But this is so raw and intimate. And he’s nervous and suddenly feels like a seventeen year old again, when he first heard Dan say those three words. 

 

He doesn’t say it back. But if Dan notices, he doesn’t say anything. Dan presses a dry kiss to the back of Phil’s neck and Phil nearly spills the whole jug of milk all over their counter.

 

It’s comfortable. Peaceful. It’s everything that Phil has been wishing for ever since they got back together. 

 

They eat on the sofa, side by side, their elbows brushing together. 

 

When Dan’s bowl is empty, he puts it down on the coffee table and takes his mug of hot chocolate into his hands. When his eyes accidentally catch Phil’s he smiles lightly. 

 

“Phil,” Dan starts, leaning into the other boy so that their shoulders are pressed together tightly. 

 

“Mmm?” Phil hums, taking a sip of his tea. 

 

“I- I’m not sad that he fired me.” 

 

Phil’s full attention easily turns to Dan. He puts his tea down. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I think I’m more disappointed in myself. Like, I wasn’t strong enough to do it or something.” Dan takes a huge gulp of his hot chocolate, wincing as it burns his tongue, “I think he knew how much I started to hate it… How much I started to just kinda crumble.” 

 

Phil wraps an arm around Dan’s shoulders, and Dan leans into the touch. Phil’s glad that Dan’s actually talking to him, as he was worried that Dan would simply keep everything to himself, as he’d been known to do in the past. 

 

“I like to think that I would've quit, if I really couldn’t do it anymore.” 

 

“Would you really?” Phil asks. 

 

“Nah. Probably not, to be honest.”

 

Phil chuckles, “Stubborn.” 

 

Dan rolls his eyes, “Says you!”

 

“I’m not stubborn! What are you on about,” Phil grumbles jokingly. 

 

Dan’s laugh is full of happiness and his eyes sparkle with love as he ducks his head forwards to quickly kiss the corner of Phil’s mouth. 

 

They talk about everything and nothing whilst they finish off their drinks. Phil tells Dan about the little old lady who brought her pitbull puppy into the bookshop the other day. (“He opened the door! And when she picked out a book she put it in a plastic bag and the dog carried it up to me! I ran upstairs to get a little bit of leftover toast and the lady let me make it sit and lie down  _ and  _ roll over and then I gave it the toast and he took it so gently from my hand. She said that she’d be back maybe in a week or so!”) And Dan went on a mild rant about the plot to some obscure anime that Phil wouldn’t have cared about if anybody other than Dan was talking about it. 

 

Eventually though, Phil has to get up to open the shop and Dan has to leave to take an hour long bath while watching anime. 

 

-

 

Days fly by in an easy routine. 

 

Dan tends to stick by Phil’s side, shadowing him as he goes about his day. Phil should be happy about it. Phil  _ wants  _ to be happy about it. But somehow, he’s not. Maybe it’s just because he’s not yet used to it. He hopes that that’s it, because then that means that he can adjust. That he can become more comfortable about the boy who he says he loves. 

 

It’s just that everything seems to be moving so fast. 

 

It didn’t seem like that long ago when they were standing in the rain, Dan yelling, “I don’t love you anymore.” 

 

Cruel, isn’t it? Using words so strong, cutting into someone who was so, so deeply,  _ madly  _ in love. Cruel, to ruin them like that without so much as a second thought. Of course, it hadn’t been that easy for Dan. But they hadn’t talked it through. That’s the thing, above and unique from everything else,  _ they haven’t talked about it.  _

 

That’s where Phil’s insecurities are rooted, deep in the knowledge that Dan  _ still,  _ after all these years, after all the healing that they’d done together, doesn’t really love him like he did when they were teenagers and stupid and full of life. 

 

He’s so,  _ so  _ fucking scared that his love is just as unrequited as it had been when they were younger. 

 

Dan’s an enigma. He’s wrapped up in layers and layers of finely-tuned shells, each representing a different part of his personality. The person that most people see; a tired pastel boy. And the person who Phil’s grown to know and love;  _ Dan.  _ Complete and unwrapped naked and vulnerable  _ Dan.  _ Every single part of his personality there for Phil to see and love or hate. 

 

He’s so much. 

 

And Phil’s scared that he’s too much. 

 

-

 

The distance starts gradually. Separate breakfast when Dan wakes up late and Phil needs to start working early. Phil, slipping back into bed in the early hours of the morning and waking up void of Dan’s arms around him, bags under his eyes. 

 

Arguably, they’re always around each other. But that doesn’t mean that they’re both really  _ there.  _

 

Phil hopes that he’s ignoring the way that Dan’s smiles seem empty. Because god  _ dammit,  _ they’re so, so close to having  _ something  _ again. 

 

“Phil.” Dan whispers. They’re lying in bed together in the late hours of the night, both staring blankly at the ceiling as darkness folds over them. Phil has half a mind to simply pretend to sleep, ignoring the serious tone in Dan’s voice. But of course he doesn’t stay silent. He can’t, because it’s Dan and in front of Dan, Phil cannot hide a thing. 

 

“Dan.” He says, keeping his voice hushed to match Dan’s. 

 

“I just” Dan starts, “wanted to ask you how you felt. About me getting another job.” He rolls over to face Phil, propping himself up on his elbow. The pale moonlight that shines through the window is enough to illuminate his face, showing Phil the curious expression that Dan wears. 

 

“That depends,” Phil says carefully, “What were you thinking of doing?” 

 

This is where Dan hesitates. He bites his bottom lip and flops down onto his back again, “technically speaking, I’m really qualified solely for one job…” 

 

Phil sees where this is going. He frowns. 

 

“I went to law school. And I have experience. I was  _ good  _ at it! School was horrible, and it made my brain hurt so much but look where I got to. It pays well and-... and I’m good at it.” 

 

There’s a pause, then Dan speaks again, “I think that I should be a lawyer again. At a company that’ll give me less cases or something like that… Y’know? So that way I wouldn’t be like, dead. But I would have something to do that I can do very well already. You get what I’m saying?” 

 

Phil sighs. It’s too late for this conversation. Or not late enough. “I get you… But.” 

 

Dan groans, “I  _ knew  _ there’d be a ‘but’. What don’t you like about my plan?” He sounds genuinely curious. Like he’s be open to whatever Phil was to suggest. 

 

“I guess I just think that this could be the perfect opportunity for you to do something you really wanted.” Phil finds Dan’s hand under the duvet and gives it a quick squeeze, before lacing their fingers together. “You could do  _ anything.  _ Why settle for something that’s gonna inevitable make you sad again?”

 

“Because I don’t know what else I can do, Phil. It feels better to take the safe route and go with something that I already know I can do.” He pauses, and takes a deep breath before continuing, “I- I think I’m too scared to even attempt at doing something else.” Dan’s voice hitches in his throat, and he stops talking abruptly. 

 

Phil lets the silence take over them for a few minutes. He keeps holding Dan’s hand tight in his own, offering stability. 

 

When he does speak, his voice is so soft that Dan has to strain to hear it;  _ “I just want you to be happy.”  _

 

And that’s it. That’s really all there is, if they break their relationship down, looking through everything with a magnifying glass, at the base of  _ everything.  _ They, both of them, want each other to be the happiest version of themselves that they can be. Their love, the whole life that they’ve created around each other, is with the knowledge that they’d drop everything for the other person. 

 

Phil guesses that that’s just something that comes with being in love with another person. 

 

-

 

A few days later, when Dan prints off a few copies of his resume to give to some small, family-owned lawyers offices, all Phil can do is bite his tongue and give him a quick hug goodbye. 

 

The bookshop stays busy enough that Phil doesn’t have much time to get lost in his own thoughts.Which is a good thing, seeing as right now, thinking is the last thing that Phil wants to do. Thinking would inevitably lead to a crisis of some sort, which definitely isn’t ideal when he’s in the middle of working. 

 

He owes a lot to the Fayecastle, the small bookshop that his great-grandfather left him after he died. (Cancer, in his lungs and spreading quickly.) At the time, he hadn’t had a job -- therefore didn’t have any sort of income, and after graduating from university with a huge student loan, he had to make money somehow. At first, he had gotten a job at a coffee shop, a big chain one with too many drinks to memorize. He could do the simpler drinks -- Americanos, Lattes, Mochas, hot chocolate and drip coffees, but anything more complicated than that and his brain just got so frazzled that he usually messed it up somehow. After many customer complaints, his boss fired him with a sympathetic smile (“You’re an amazing person, Phil. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you. I’m so, so sorry.” She had hugged him and given him a free coffee.) 

 

It was somewhere around that time that he had moved back in with his parents, writing short stories that sometimes made it into a magazine or newspaper. It didn’t pay much at all. But his parents were happy and excited for him, always sending off copies of said magazines and newspapers to relatives. 

 

His great-grandfather had ended up with a copy. Apparently, when he had read Phil’s piece, he didn’t stop smiling for hours, even as he lay in the hospital. 

 

He said that Phil had a gift for writing. He said that Phil should really pursue it in some way, (He had gone to university for it after all.) and he said that there was no place better to write then surrounded by thousands of stories. 

 

And so, Phil had ended up with a bookshop and a small bit of money to get him started. 

 

It was a bit run-down at first. Well, a lot run down. But Phil made it work, somehow. 

 

The big sign outside was rusted and old, so Phil spent hours cleaning off the rust and re-painting it. At least half, if now more of the overhead lights were broken. Instead of replacing them, Phil left them as they were and bought all the fairy lights that the thrift shop down the street had, along with a few lamps. He spend a whole day setting them up, and even then the back half of the shop stayed dim and damp, but it was better than nothing. 

 

Lots of the books were in such bad shape that he had to throw them out. 

 

The floor of his apartment above the shop was weak and there were holes in some places so that he could look down into the fayecastle from his kitchen by the sink. 

 

Most of all though, there were  _ books.  _ Of course, seeing as it was a bookshop, that really wasn’t all that unexpected. But, calculating in the very small size of the shop itself to the sheer amount of books, there were  _ a lot.  _ They’re stacked on everything, the windowsills, the tops of bookshelves to the point of if there were an earthquake, anybody standing under such a bookshelf would be crushed instantly. There’s small footstools and ladders scattered everywhere, so that people could properly look at all the books. 

 

There were piles of them on the floor, too. Some stacked haphazardly on footstools, others just in piles on the wooden ground, going as high as three feet, bigger books on the bottom and smaller books on the top. 

 

As it was, there really isn’t all that much room to move around. Everybody has to side-step to get between some shelves. It wasn’t uncommon for some newcomer to come into the shop, walk five feet and then accidently knock down one key book that would lead to a avalanche of a few dozen other books. 

 

Even after years and years of trying to fix it up, the shop still stays the same in some ways. Two of the windows leak in the heavy rain, so Phil has taken to leaving metal pails under them during the rainy season. Nearly all the floorboards creak, it makes it so much easier to tell where customers are and if they’ll need help (If he heard them getting too close to the back, and then turning around in a small circle when they were met by a wall of books and dead plants, then they probably needed help finding their way back out.) 

 

Getting it to the point where the business was steady enough that he could actually make a decent profit off of it had been difficult. But over a long period of time and relentless work, he’d managed to almost single-handedly turn it into something that he’s infinitely proud of. 

 

Though, he still hasn’t written anything whilst surrounded by thousands of books as his great-grandfather had originally intended him to do. Sure, stories popped up into his head all the time. He’d just never written any of them down. He usually claimed that he just wasn't in the right headspace, but that was merely procrastination. There isn’t really any excuse as to why he hasn’t written a new york times best selling novel yet, other then just… not being motivated enough. It wasn’t like he needs the money anymore. He  _ does  _ love writing, but whenever he sits down in front of his laptop, his mind drifts and he ends up doing something else instead. 

 

The closest he’s ever gotten to writing something is doing a half-finished outline about a year ago now. 

 

Maybe one day, though. He owes this place that much. 

 

-

 

When Dan gets home early that evening from job-hunting, the first thing he does is change into his pajamas, leaving his smart-looking expensive suit in a crumpled heap on the bedroom floor, then he goes into the kitchen spending nearly ten minutes looking for his favorite mug. For the record, it had been in the cupboard that the pots and pans usually occupy. How it got there, he has no idea. He makes a mental note to ask Phil about it later. It was the biggest mug they had, being approximately the size of Dan’s head. The perfect size for coffee. 

 

Phil comes up some time later, having just closed up the shop. He finds Dan on the sofa, watching an anime with half-lidded eyes.

 

“Hey,” Phil says softly. He smiles fondly when he sees that Dan’s wearing the flower crown that he had given him many years ago -- back before they had broken up. It had been a christmas present. No, wait. Maybe birthday present. Phil can’t remember exactly. But he  _ can  _ remember the way that Dan’s eyes had lit up when he gave it to him. And the way he had kissed him as a thank-you. And how he had worn it nearly everyday after that.

 

Phil doesn’t say it; but the fact that Dan kept it after all these years does mean a lot to him. 

 

“Hi,” Dan replies, “d’you wanna watch this with me?” He gestures towards the screen. It’s playing some sort of gruesome death scene and Phil’s nose wrinkles, but he sits down beside Dan anyways, letting the other lean on his shoulder with a soft sigh. 

 

Neither of them talk for about two episodes, save for a few offhand comments. (“God this is… such a mess, honestly.” “Don’t go into the scary house  _ oh my god you idiot. _ ” “Why do you watch this stuff?” “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”) 

 

Eventually though, Phil does break the silence. Mostly because he can’t find the will to even pretend to be somewhat enjoying this particular anime because honestly  _ what the fuck, Dan?  _

 

“Dan… Are you getting hungry or something? Maybe we could pause this and go eat something?” He can’t think of a better way to just make this anime  _ stop.  _

 

Dan, however, doesn’t move, “we don’t have any good food. There’s like… maybe a bit of pasta.”

 

“Let’s go out then.” Phil laces his fingers through Dan’s, “c’mon. Let’s go.”

 

Dan gestures wordlessly towards his laptop screen, “don’t you wanna see what happens next?” 

 

“Uh.”

 

Dan tilts his head towards his boyfriend, “not a fan?” 

 

“Not really.” Phil says sheepishly, “What gave it away?” 

 

Dan laughs airily, “maybe the fact that you’ve barely glanced at the screen since what's-his-face killed that whatchamacallit.” 

 

“I’m glad you’re paying just as much attention as me.” Phil giggles, then stands up and tugs on Dan’s hand, “let’s go. I want food.” 

 

Dan tsks under his breath, but closes the laptop all the same, “If we’re going out then I need to get dressed.”

 

Phil says, “Go get dressed then, wear something pretty, princess.” And Dan blushes a bright red and pecks Phil’s cheek before going down the hallway to their bedroom. Phil waits for him in the lounge, wondering why on earth he ever questions their love. 

 

-

 

Five days later and Dan has heard back from one of the places he applied to. They said that the job was his, if he still wanted it. For the life of his though, he has no idea how to respond. Does he really  _ want  _ this? 

 

It takes over his whole mind, making it nearly impossible to think of anything other than this decision.  _ Does he really want this? Will it make him happy?  _ He needs the money, he really does. There’s no way that he can just stop working all together, he needs some sort of income. And god, this was supposed to be the easy option. He wasn’t supposed to have to think about accepting a job that he wanted. Except, did  he really want it or was he just going with what he thought was right? 

 

Dan groans, rolling over in bed. He expected to roll into Phil, but is met instead with empty sheets. He groans again, curling up around Phil’s pillow and squeezing his eyes shut tight. His stomach hurts. Maybe it’s the anxiety or maybe it’s just the fish they had for dinner yesterday at a dodgy looking asian restaurant. 

 

He presses his lips into a thin line. 

 

_ What should he do? _

 

-

 

Phil thinks that Dan is acting weirder. Than normal, that is. Dan’s always been a bit strange, but this is just a whole new level. He was up before Phil, but instead of doing the usual routine of making coffee and something for breakfast, he just lies in bed, long after Phil woke up and left to open up the shop. He didn’t even ask for a kiss goodbye, instead just kept staring blankly at the wall. Phil’s attempts at getting him to move had been useless, and he had ended up just leaving Dan there, promising silently to come back as soon as Max got to work. 

 

But when Max gets there, nearly an hour later, and Phil quickly excuses himself to go see how Dan’s doing, he’s met with an empty bed. A quick search of the whole apartment and bookshop shows that Dan isn’t in the building at all. 

 

And Phil worries. 

 

-

 

“Hello?” 

 

“Hi! This is Daniel Howell calling… I sent my resume in a while ago and I got an email saying that the job was mine if I wanted it? I’m just here to confirm that that offer is still standing.” 

 

“Yes, the offer is most definitely still standing.”

 

“Great, great…”

 

“Do you accept our offer, Daniel?” 

 

“I-... N- Yes. Yes I accept the offer, It would be my pleasure.” 

 

-

 

Phil has tried calling Dan dozens of times, but each time it goes to voicemail. He’s left tons of messages, and what was most likely hundreds of texts. He feels dread in his gut, like something bad was about to happen. But then again, he can’t find Dan. It’s not like him at all to just leave, least of all without telling Phil anything. So hadn’t the worst thing happened already?

 

He thought that they were fine. No, he was so  _ sure  _ that they were fine. That they were good. That they were  _ great.  _ That everything was working out and that they could finally live out their happily ever after. 

 

But Dan’s an enigma. And Phil’s just a boy in love. 

 

-

 

When Dan had broken up with him years and years ago, Phil had gone home with the taste of their last kiss on his tongue and a horrible, sinking feeling that he’d never be worthy of someone’s love. That he could never be in love again, the way that he and Dan had been in love. It was stupid, and led to so many bad decisions on his part. Like waking up, still drunk from the night before in a stranger's bed. Or yelling at his friends when they tried to help him. ( _ “But you don’t GET it!! You CAN’T get it!! You didn’t know him like I did! Get away from me! LEAVE ME ALONE.” _ ) 

 

It got better, over time. 

 

To the point where Phil could think about Dan without wanting to throw up. 

 

To the point where, after they met again, Phil could safely say that he Loved Dan.

 

But he can’t shake the feeling that maybe Dan doesn’t love him back. He never gave Phil a  _ reason  _ when they broke up. All he said was that he didn’t love Phil anymore, expecting Phil to just take that and not be tortured by the knowledge that  _ he, somehow, wasn’t good enough. _

 

And so, the distance starts gradually, with separate breakfasts and Phil working for a good part of the day whilst Dan watched shitty anime. And then, all of a sudden. There was actual distance and Phil’s mind won’t let him stop thinking about the plain and simple facts; Dan had stopped loving him before, so what’s stopping him from not loving Phil now?

 

It’s stupid, it really is. But it’s all he can think, because Dan’s not here and Phil doesn’t know where he went wrong. 

 

-

 

Fear. That’s what this is, Dan recognizes numbly. Maybe he’s being irrational because he hadn’t been sleeping properly for a while. But either way, he’s shaky and nervous and cannot, for the life of him, work up to courage to go home. To go back to Phil. 

 

Phil didn’t want him to take this job. He  _ knows  _ that. But why is it Phil’s choice? Why does Phil even matter at all in this whole scenario, he’s Dan’s boyfriend, not his warden. 

 

Still though, he can’t go home because he doesn’t want Phil to be mad or disappointed at him. 

 

Every Time that his phone lights up with a notification from said boyfriend, Dan’s breath shakes a little bit more. 

 

Phil (20:38):  _ Please can you come home.  _

 

-

 

It’s nearly ten thirty that night when Dan stumbles through the front door, crashing directly into Phil, who grabs onto him and looks just about ready to start sobbing. 

 

“Where  _ were  _ you?” and there’s a bit of anger there. 

 

Dan’s breath catches in his throat and he pulls away from Phil. It’s too much. Entirely and utterly too much. He focuses on keeping his breathing even. Phil’s voice is white noise in the background, loud, high and panicky. Fuck, all Dan wants to do is  _ get out. _

 

“Dan- Dan, please. We have to talk.”

 

“You can’t just run off- I-... you can’t.”

 

“Why did you leave? Are you okay?”

 

“Did I do something?” 

 

_ “Please.”  _

 

Phil’s mind is in overdrive. He’s overreacting, but he can’t stop. Goddammit, he’s not going to lose Dan again. They’re going to talk it out and fix whatever went wrong and Phil can  _ change,  _ he can be a better boyfriend to Dan -- he can be a better  _ person,  _ if Dan just gave him a chance instead of running away!

 

“Phil,” Dan’s voice is so quiet, Phil can barely hear it, “Phil, you have to give me some space.” His eyes aren’t anywhere near Phil’s, they’re staring fixedly on the ground, so much so that he doesn’t see the way that Phil’s whole face  _ crumples.  _

 

Phil could have said so many things;  _ “No, let’s talk this through.” “Why do you need space?” “Are you okay?” “What can I do to help you?”  _ But he doesn’t say any of that. He keeps his mouth shut and takes a stumbling step back. Dan’s still not looking up. 

 

“I just need some space.” and, “I’m sorry, Phil.” 

 

-

 

Space. Phil can do that. It’s not like they’re breaking up or anything, he just needs to give his boyfriend a bit of space to work out whatever he’s going through. He’ll come to Phil when he’s ready to share, and if he doesn’t come to Phil than obviously it’s simply not important enough to share, right?

 

Maturity should be used in this situation. That, and common sense. Unfortunately for them specifically, it doesn't end up working like that. Because Phil can’t stop getting hung up on the fact that Dan might not really love him, paired with insomnia that just fuels the drunken-like thinking, and Dan is so anxious about  _ everything  _ lately that he doesn't know how to come to anybody for help anymore. 

 

-

 

Years ago, they’d been faced with similar problems: Dan being so wrapped up in himself and not knowing how to open up, and Phil pushing so hard that he inevitably gets shut out because he’s not being considerate enough and just letting the person be. 

 

Things get worked up in Phil’s head, so that they’re bigger and much, much more dramatic than they really need to be, given the circumstances. 

 

And Dan himself just sucks at communication. He doesn’t know how to talk to people properly. He never really has, it’s always been his biggest flaw, above everything else. 

 

But now, more than ever, they really need to work together to find a way to work through it.

 

-

 

Days pass. Communication is at a bare minimum (“Don’t forget your keys.” “Are you gonna be home late?” “I left breakfast on the counter if you’re hungry.” “I’ll be in the bookshop if you need me.”) and Dan  _ wants  _ to talk, he does. But whenever he works up the courage, Phil skirts around him, making up excuses to leave, barely meeting Dan’s eye. 

 

God, that hurts. 

 

Dan takes to sleeping on the sofa most nights. He doesn’t start working for another week. 

 

He wants to talk. 

 

\- .

 

Phil’s looking at the stars. There’s so much cloud cover and light pollution that it’s nearly impossible, but he’s still giving it his all, having carried the duvet all the way up to the roof so that he has something comfortable to lay on. 

 

He has a bottle of some sort of liquor, and is taking periodic sips from it. 

 

His eyesight is a bit hazy without his glasses. His brain is a bit fuzzy from the booze. 

 

_ This is good,  _ Phil thinks, the feeling right before he was flat-out drunk. It’s good, it’s all good.

 

At this point he’s not even really looking at the stars, instead just laying on an old duvet on the roof of a bookshop on the outskirts of London, drinking from a cheap bottle and wishing that his relationship wasn’t falling apart in front of his very eyes  _ again.  _ That’s the thing; this has happened before. Not exactly the same, of course, but there were tons of similarities. It’s the same feeling, at least. The dread, pooling in his stomach, driving him to want to drink until he can barely remember his own name, let alone some pretty pastel boy who somehow managed to take over his life  _ multiple  _ times. 

 

It wasn’t fair of Dan to be able to do that. To worm his way into Phil’s life and to take over it to the point where Phil can barely imagine  _ not  _ having him around. 

 

When Phil had first realised this, a few weeks into their first relationship, Dan had been in his kitchen, sitting on the counted, licking cookie dough off of a spoon whilst Phil scolded him, telling him that if he keeps that up then he’s bound to get salmonella. Dan had just laughed it off, telling Phil that it tasted good and that it was better to live young and fast and happy, to which Phil had said,  _ “Are you saying that you’d commit suicide via raw cookie dough so that you could live fast and young?”  _ and Dan had replied,  _ “Of course that’s what I mean.”  _ and then had dissolved into giggles and Phil’s face had the biggest smile on it, one that was mirrored by Dan. The atmosphere in the room at that time had been so carefree and happy. Neither of them were being caught up on any issues that may be in their lives because right then and there, happiness and love were the only things on their minds. 

 

_ That’s  _ what Phil misses about Dan. The jokes and the giggles and the way that he could bring a feeling of lightness to Phil no matter the situation. He fell in love with all of Dan, but that was the Dan that he liked the most.

 

Of course, like anyone else, even back then, Dan had hundreds of sides to his personality. 

 

He’s teetering on the edge of being flat-out drunk, and the stars seem more appealing than ever.  _ Fuck,  _ he’s a mess. But somehow, he’s too far gone to care. He takes a sip from whatever the hell he’s drinking - he can’t remember. It tastes good, sharp and thick on his tongue. His eyelids feel heavy. Maybe it’s the exhaustion that clings to him; maybe it’s the unshed tears behind his eyes. 

 

Another sip and he kinda wants to scream. 

 

Just because everything is entirely, completely and utterly too much. He’s not a teenager anymore but that doesn’t mean that the world doesn’t still try to tear him down.

 

-

 

Time is going by too damn fast. 

 

It seems as if one second; they’re drunk and stupid and young and in love, and the next second they’re whatever the fuck  _ here  _ is. 

 

In a bookshop, filled to the brim with millions of stories - insecurities and issues not spoken about, not properly. Dan, deep shadows under his eyes, wanting to talk but not knowing  _ how.  _ Phil, liquor on his lips and wishing for smoke in his lungs and Dan’s love to his again. 

 

They both know that they can’t stay like this. 

 

But time is moving too fast, and their mouths refuse to speak. 

 

-

 

It goes on like this for longer than either of them will admit. 

 

-

 

Dan’s nervous. He’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wrapped up in entirely too many towels. He’s trying his best to focus on taking long, deep breaths. But he still feels like he might be about to throw up. It’s the night before his first day at this new job and he  _ has  _ to tell Phil. 

 

It’s him - it’s all him, and he knows this; the distance, that is. It’s his fault. 

 

It’s happened before, maybe not exactly like this, but similar enough. Dan, pushing Phil away. 

 

At the end of the day though, Dan knows for sure, with the entirety of his heart; that he doesn’t want to be anywhere that Phil isn’t. Because when Phil’s with him, he’s the happiest version of himself. Sometimes, mostly. At least, that’s how he wants it to be. Happy. 

 

-

 

Phil’s sitting on the safa. His head is tilted back, leaning against the faded beige wall. His laptop is sitting open on his lap, a blank word document staring at his impossibly pale face. 

 

_ What is love?  _ He’s constantly asking himself.  _ At the end of the day; what does any of this mean?  _

 

He rubs a tired hand over his face. Takes a deep breath. It’s too late to be thinking about these sorts of things. 

 

_ Love.  _ Such a small word, only four letters, and yet, it means so much. It means  _ everything.  _ When asked what the meaning of life is, Phil never hesitates to answer with; “Love, of course.” That, to Phil, is the meaning of life. Four small, tiny, insignificant letters. It goes deeper than that though. It’s a feeling, somewhere in the middle of his chest. 

 

It’s the feeling that he gets when his eyes meet Dan’s, and Dan’s face morphs into pure happiness, a smile stretching across his lips and his eyes crinkling at the edges. Dimples, on his cheeks. It’s the feeling of lying beside a pretty pastel boy in the middle of a giant field, watching the clouds and not having anything on their minds at all. It’s the feeling when he leaves the city and watches the stars at night without the light pollution taking away from their greatness. It’s the feeling when he opens a new book and the feeling when a dog pulls on it’s owners leash to come say hi. 

 

It’s the feeling of affection so deep that he’s suffocated by it. 

 

_ Love.  _ Four letters. 

 

He closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, glancing down at the blank word document before tilting his head to look out the window, to where the sun is setting. It’s lighting up the skyline in bright orange and red hues, clouds bursting into flame. 

 

He has huge bags under his eyes, courtesy of his insomnia being worse than ever. 

 

He takes a few deep breaths, and tells himself that everything will be okay. 

 

It’s maybe just an hour or so later that Dan wanders into the room. He seems to hesitate in the doorway for a split second, but Phil thinks that he must have imagined that because Dan steps in, all soft looking in a giant pink sweatshirt and sweatpants. He keeps his gaze downcast. Phil quickly does the same, averting his eyes so that he’s staring at his laptop screen. So that, just in case Dan wanted to not talk, he could just walk right past Phil, and Phil could pretend that he hadn’t seen him. 

 

But for whatever reason, Dan doesn’t just creep slowly through the room. He takes a few short steps forwards and sits down on the very edge of the sofa beside Phil, a good foot or two between them. 

 

“Phil.” Dan says, and Phil closes his laptop. 

 

-

 

The thing is, at the end of the day, they’re both just trying to love. 

 

And it’s so hard sometimes.  _ God,  _ scratch that. It’s bloody  _ impossible  _ sometimes. To love; to be in love; to keep up a steady communication with the person who they no doubt want to spend the remainder of their lives with. Because the first time they fell in love, it had been something out of a magical storybook. 

 

Trying it again, even after everything that they’ve gone through, even after all the mistakes they’ve made and after everything that they wish they could take back, is a sure sign that they believe in some sort of forgiveness - that they believe that you can fall in love more than once, with the same person, only at different times. 

 

Maybe the thing with soulmates, is that you’ve gotta meet at the right point in time. 

 

Maybe being teenagers and thinking love was a meaningless word to throw around meant that they weren’t  _ ready  _ yet. 

 

Maybe now, after they’ve been through so much, they can finally  _ love.  _

 

-

 

“Phil,” Dan says and Phil closes his laptop, his blood running cold. His mind is jumping to conclusion; it’s all he can do to swallow thickly and face Dan, plastering a smile on his face that turned out to be more of a grimace than anything else. 

 

And this is it; this is the place that they’ve been trying to get to for god know’s how long. A place where there’s nowhere that they need to be. A place where they can  _ talk;  _ where they  _ want  _ to talk. Here, they can get things out into the open. Find understanding between them. Because ignoring their problems and ignoring each other isn’t getting them anywhere that they want to be.

 

“I need to tell you something.” Dan takes a big gulp of air. He wants to have Phil’s arms around him, because that’s where he’s always felt the most safe.

 

Phil nods, giving the other boy a small, almost sad-looking smile. It was almost as if he was expecting the worse. Which, to be fair, he most likely was. When it comes to Dan and serious conversations, he’s never really been all that hopeful. Because with Dan it’s always been ride or die. He’s really, really not one to change for anything. Or any _ one.  _ It’s always been on his terms, at the end of the day. Like how so many years ago,  _ he  _ was the one to yell at Phil; to tell him that  _ he didn’t love him anymore.  _ Even if that statement wasn’t technically true, the wounds on Phil still run deep to this day.

 

“I got a job,” Dan’s voice doesn’t even waver. It surprises himself, it really does. He thought he’d be more nervous. “That’s-... that’s why I’ve been so distant I guess.” 

 

Phil’s not even looking at Dan, his gaze is out the window, staring at the rapidly-diminishing sunset. 

 

“And I guess I wanted to say sorry?” Dan catches his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly to stop himself from rambling on.

 

Always on Dan’s terms. Phil can’t stop his chest from being filled with anger. That’s Dan for you- rash, unplanned, does things in the moment, not thinking about anybody else’s thoughts or opinions. Vaguely, Phil wonders if Dan ever regrets it. Regrets the way that he just says whatever he thinks, leaving everyone affected to deal with the consequences.

 

Dan leans forwards, towards Phil. There’s so many words on the tip of his tongue but he can’t seem to say any of them. 

 

A few stilled, silent moments pass before Phil talks. 

 

“Why?” It’s simple really, one word. Three letters. But really, it’s a gateway to a discussion. A gateway to something a little deeper than just; ‘Hey so I got a new job but I was scared of how you’d react so I kept it from you.’ 

 

Asking  _ why  _ means that he’s looking for something deeper. And god, Dan really doesn’t know if he can give Phil that. 

 

And so, he lets silence lay over the flat like a heavy blanket, creating an atmosphere that makes them both just want to go back in time to a place where they were sure that everything would be alright.

 

“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna answer my question?” Phil’s voice sounds heartbroken. For him, this means a lot more than just his boyfriend going behind his back to get a job that would inevitably make them both sad. “We have to have communication! Do you even care about  _ this? _ ” He gestures wildly between their two bodies. 

 

“Phil, c’mon. Don’t- Don’t say that.” 

 

“Can we at least talk about it?” Phil pleads. Because he  _ wants  _ to have this, this relationship with Dan. This love that they’ve spent so much time trying to reach. 

 

Dan sighs heavily, “Yeah.” There’s a pause before he looks up at Phil, through his long eyelashes. “Let’s talk, then.” 

 

-

 

_ You’re everything, you know that, right?  _

 

An eighteen year old Phil is at a party, sitting outside, his back leaning up against the fence. He can hear the music that’s playing inside - some weird pop remix that makes him want to claw his eyes out - but above that he can hear the sound of somebody - what was her name again? Emma? Emily? - playing the guitar, slowly and softly, sometimes missing the cords, making the whole thing sound a bit off. The guitar isn’t even tuned properly, but it still beats the music coming from inside by a long shot. There’s a couple kids trying to sing along to her admittedly horrible music, but they’re either too drunk or too high to do more than mumbled almost incoherently. Kudos for trying, though. 

 

Phil’s phone is dead. He forgot to charge it up before he left and it’s now rendered effectively useless. That doesn’t stop him from trying to turn it on every minute or so. 

 

He takes a sip from whatever’s in his cup, and wrinkles his nose, fighting to swallow it. It tastes horrible. 

 

He sighs heavily. 

 

Dan said that he was going to be here. That’s why Phil had come. Because his almost-boyfriend had said that he was going, and Phil didn’t want Dan to go alone, what sort of friend would he be if he didn’t show up to keep Dan company? 

 

But of course, Dan’s not here. 

 

Phil takes another sip of his drink. Some guy comes over, sitting too close to Phil and telling him that his name was Alexander but Phil could call him Alex if he wanted. When Alex offers him a cigarette, Phil agrees with ease. When Alex plucks the cig from Phil’s mouth and takes a long drag from it himself, breathing smoke out of his nose and grinning at Phil like some sort of mad man, Phil doesn’t complain. 

 

When Alex presses his lips to Phil’s in a drunk daze, Phil doesn’t pull back, and is just hit with the strong realization that this  _ isn’t  _ Dan. He doesn’t pull back because Dan’s not  _ his.   _ Dan’s some sort of paradox contained within a human skin suit, he’s all the stars in the sky combined with the way that the wind roars across fields of nothingness. An enigma, a mystery, a puzzle, all meant to not be solved. His heart is locked up at shoved away, hiding behind huge metal doors, making it nearly impossible for anything more than stolen kisses and quiet thoughts to happen between them. 

 

So when Alex kisses Phil, all Phil feels is regret that it’s not Dan. 

 

Because even then, Phil’s in love with Dan, and Dan doesn’t know how to love back. 

 

Because Dan’s everything; he’s everything and  _ more.  _

 

-

 

“So. Talking. Where do we start?” 

 

A deep breath. Rapid blinking to warn tears away before they form. One’s hands shaking, and the other person reaching forwards to wrap them in their own, steading them both. 

 

“The beginning. How did we get here?” 

 

-

 

A field. 

 

A giant, grassy expanse of space, dotted through with flowers. 

 

Wind, billowing around them , caressing their faces. 

 

Clouds, above them. 

 

A small pastel boy, and another boy, trying so hard to not fall in love but failing completely. 

 

“It’s you!” to which Phil would snort and shake his head vigorously, “No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong, it’s  _ you. _ ” 

 

-

 

“That’s when it started, huh?” 

 

“Yeah. I guess, I mean, that’s when we…uh- yeah.” 

 

“You didn’t love me then, did you?” 

 

Phil shakes his head roughly, “No. But I think that’s when I realized that I  _ could  _ love you. Over time, of course.” 

 

-

 

There was pure, unrelenting happiness for a long time there. Sometime between when Dan first screamed, “Because I love you, you complete idiot!” and when Dan got bags under his eyes and stopped talking as much. Yeah. It was between those times when their teenage selves were most happy. 

 

Pure happiness. Clean, beautiful happiness with bright smiles and nights spent wide awake, staring at the stars and grinning from ear to ear. 

 

-

 

“How did you know that you loved me?” 

 

“Because… you were  _ there.  _ Right there, in my arms, and you smiled and my heart wouldn’t stop beating crazily fast and I thought that I could be happy forever if we could just stay like that until the end of time.”

  
  


-

 

Dan had been laying on Phil’s bed, wearing nothing other than a pair of (Phil’s) boxers and a sweatshirt that had to be at least five sizes too big, as it pooled around his body. He had smiled; small and all shy-like, but his smile had turned to a grin when Phil crawled onto the bed beside him and had wrapped his arms around Dan’s torso. 

 

Dan’s pupils had been blown wide and his tongue had laughter on it and his hands were light on Phil’s skin. 

 

The sheets were tangled up by their feet and they held each other close and tight for a long, long time. That’s when Phil realized that he never wanted to be anywhere that Dan wasn’t. That’s when he realized that he didn’t know if he could be truly happy if Dan wasn’t always by his side. 

 

And that’s what love is, isn’t it? 

  
  


Maybe the hardest part of everything was their young age. Or maybe it was school. Or maybe it was Phil’s smoking and his obsession with the stars. Or maybe it was Dan battling with his mind. 

 

Or maybe it was Dan thinking that he didn’t deserve to be truly happy. That he didn’t deserve Phil. 

 

-

 

“I broke up with you.” 

 

“Yeah, you did.” 

 

“That’s another thing that we haven’t talked about.” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“How did you feel?” 

 

“After you left me?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

-

 

“I don’t love you anymore.” The words are sharp, stinging Phil as if he’d been struck by some sort of medieval sword. He has to fight not to take a step away from Dan.

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Dan.” 

 

“Dan, look at me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Again and again, trying to make some sort of sense of it. 

 

“Just tell me  _ why _ !” 

 

Dan doesn’t tell him why. He’s crying; they both are. But there’s no explanation. There’s no reason as to  _ why  _ as far as Phil could tell in that moment. Later though, he’d give himself tons of reasons. Like how he wasn’t good enough for Dan. Or that he wasn’t good enough  _ too  _ Dan. Or that they lived too far apart (A ten minute train ride.) Or that he smoked too much. (He kept saying that he’d quit, every time that Dan complained of the taste of it when they kissed. He did eventually quit, a few months after they broke up.) 

 

But standing there in the rain, screaming at Dan, demanding an answer and not getting one, all that Phil had felt was confusion. Confusion and heartbreak. 

 

When, after not getting an answer out of Dan, Phil had asked, “One for the road, then?” And Dan had kissed him with all his might, Phil almost, for a second there, thought that it had all been a lie. But then he can feel the way that Dan is gripping on to him and the way that the tears are mixing with the rainwater on their faces and the way that they’re both so  _ desperate,  _ trying to get everything that they possibly could out of that one last kiss. That’s how Phil knew that Dan really was leaving.

 

-

 

“I was broken. For a long time there. Just… broken.” 

 

A pause. A sigh. Dan, moving that much closer to Phil on the couch. “Same.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yeah.” Another pause. Another deep breath. “I… It was rough… I don’t know. For a long time there I couldn’t get out of bed.” 

 

“Was that because I wasn't there or because of something else?” There’s genuine care in his voice.

 

“A bit of both maybe? Mostly because of something else though.” 

 

“Was it because of that something that you broke up with me?” 

 

A longer pause this time. 

 

“Yeah. I guess it was.” 

 

Phil laces his fingers through Dan’s, “Tell me about it.” 

 

-

 

“C’mon Dan! It’ll be fun!” 

 

Someone is pressuring him into drinking. He doesn’t want to. 

 

_ No, no, no no nononono. _

 

Hours later, and he’s home, stumbling up the stairs towards his room. When he wakes up the morning, he can’t remember when he had done the previous night. Or what people had done to him. 

 

-

 

“I can’t remember what happened, really. But I got sad.” 

 

-

 

His muscles weren’t working properly. He could normally get up. Apparently not today though. His phone is on the other side of the room, he can’t reach it. He burrows into his blankets and wills himself to fall back asleep. 

 

-

 

“Uh-... yeah. My parents spent a small fortune on therapy and doctors and all that shit. All I got out of it was them throwing words around like ‘depression’ and then getting me on a shit ton of pills.” 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“Because everyone was treating me different. Checking my wrists to see if I was doing… y’know,  _ that.  _ Giving me stuff, baking cookies, trying to lift my mood up, right? But you didn’t treat me like that, you didn’t pity me. I didn’t  _ want  _ you to pity me. So I figured just try to be as energetic around you as I could… And just act as happy as I possibly could pretend to.” 

 

“I noticed.” 

 

-

 

Dan was getting bags under his eyes and his sentences always seemed a little more clipped and when Phil asked him if he wanted to go out or something Dan would usually just say that ordering pizza and cuddling in bed with netflix was good enough for him. 

 

He was sleeping longer than he normally would. 

 

He would spend hours talking about how nothing mattered in the grand scheme of things. 

 

He would look at Phil with wide, hopeless eyes, and then collapse against Phil’s chest and hold him so tight that Phil was almost afraid that his ribs would crack.

 

-

 

“You did?” 

 

“Yeah. But I don’t think I knew that it was anything serious.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was like, almost manageable for a while. On good days I could be pretty much normal.” 

 

They’re sitting closer on the couch now, having gravitated towards one another. They’re still holding hands, though a bit loosely. 

 

“But then… I don’t know. I got more stressed. The sadness and all that stayed the same but I just got pounded by so much stress. That’s when I really could barely function. I stopped taking the meds, even though I really shouldn’t have.” 

 

Phil rubs his thumb over Dan’s knuckles. 

 

“My parents found out. Of course they did. There was a lot of yelling involved, both on their part and on mine.”

 

-

 

Dan was so  _ angry.  _ Angry at everything. He just felt completely powerless and hopeless and stressed and everything got turned into  _ anger.  _ Hot, quick rage.

 

-

 

“That’s when you broke up with me?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“You didn’t have to. We could have worked through all that, you know.” 

 

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have.” 

 

They can hear the ticking of a clock in the space when their voices aren’t filling up the air.

 

“I was scared, I guess.” 

 

“Of what?” 

 

“That I’d end up hurting you.” 

 

“You hurt me either way.” 

 

Dan has tears in his eyes.

 

-

 

Phil had gone home, soaking wet from standing in the rain, and had immediately locked himself in the bathroom. He stripped down and ran a hot shower and only started crying when he stepped into the shower and let the water stream over his body.

 

Everything  _ hurt.  _ From his heart all the way up to the top of his head and all the way down to the bottom of his feet. It was a dull ache, but sharp all at the same time. At some point he sits down, leaning against the wall and just letting himself  _ cry.  _ Chest heaving with sobs, face read and covered in snot and tears alike. 

 

Hurt. Heartbroken.  _ Lost. _

 

-

 

“I-I’m sorry.” 

 

“I know. It’s okay now.” 

 

“But, Phil. I hurt you. That’s not okay, you can’t just brush it off.” 

 

“No. No I can’t just brush it off. And I can’t forget it. But, I’ve gone  _ through  _ it. I’ve cried as much as I possibly could about it and I’ve screamed and I’ve done all of that. All the grieving. I’m over that now. I  _ forgive  _ you. I just want to work on moving past it.” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah we should do that.” 

 

They’re sitting even closer together now, without even realizing it. A few minutes pass where nobody says anything. 

 

“I want you to be happy.” 

 

“I want you to be happy, too.” 

 

“I think that we’ve both done a lot of things individually to be happy.” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“But we still need to work on being happy… Together.” 

 

“It’s been awhile since we’ve done that, hm?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Communication, right?” 

 

“Yep.” 

 

“I… Don’t take this the wrong way, but I really, really, don’t want you to take that job.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because last time you did that, I feel like it almost killed you.” 

 

-

 

Phil, ages ago, finding Dan standing under a streetlamp, fumbling with his phone whilst trying to call a cab but not being able to do so.

 

Dan, running on no sleep and too much coffee, overworking himself way, way too much.

 

Too, too much. 

 

Dan, on the phone to his mom, tears racing down his cheeks and sobs shaking his chest. 

 

-

 

“I don't want to  _ not  _ do anything. I want to be helpful, I want to help  _ people _ .” 

 

“But why does that mean that you, yourself, has to suffer?”

 

“Well what else am I supposed to do, then? Isn't this my purpose in life, to fight for people?”

 

-

 

What's the purpose of human's existence on earth? Why does any of this really, truly  _ matter _ ? 

 

There is nothing. Nothing real, anyway. Nothing tangible by any extent, but there are some things that make it all worth it; that make it impossible to question why people were created in the first place. 

 

Love. Happiness. 

 

Sure, at the beginning of time that wasn't the purpose. When the big bang happened, and tiny particles of matter and antimatter popped in and out of existence, it wasn't for us. It wasn't for the humans or for earth or even for the solar system. It was because there had to be  _ something.  _

 

Physics can be poetic; but it also shows that at the end of everything nothing matters. 

 

Nothing matters because physics didn't create the meaning of life. People get to chose their own meaning, and that's the real beauty here. 

 

_ Love.  _

 

_ Happiness.  _

 

It matters simply because people value it. Nothing more than that. 

 

-

 

“You don't need to fight for people in a way that's just going to make you sad in the long run, though.” 

 

Dan let's out a big sigh, “what do you want me to do, then?” 

 

“I want you to be happy.” 

 

“And what if this job  _ will  _ make me happy?” 

 

“It won't. God fuck, it  _ won’t make you happy, _ ”

 

“How do you know that?” 

 

“Because I know you.” 

 

“I know myself, Too, y'know.” 

 

There's a pause. A long one. 

 

“I'm not going to fight with you, Dan.” 

 

A deep breath. The sound of cars rushing past on the street below the window slips into the room. Phil's lips feel unnaturally dry. God, he hates this. 

 

“do you really think that you'll be happy there?” 

 

Minutes pass. Dan keeps his gaze downcast, not meeting Phil's piercing blue stare. 

 

“No.”

 

“Then then that's all the reason you need to say no.” 

 

-

 

Ten years. 

 

Ten years since they had first met. Ten years since they had lain side by side in a giant grassy field, watching the clouds and thinking of nothing but each other. It had been ten years since  _ everything  _ started. Ten years since a beginning that neither of them could ever, ever regret.

 

Time is going by too fast, they’re stuck in some sort of whirlwind, and just letting themselves fly along, trying to make the most of whatever moments they find themselves in.

 

Ten years. It seems like shorter, it really does. They’ve both changed so much. They’ve both  _ learnt  _ so much, both about themselves and about each other. It’s been alot. Sometimes it’s been way, way too much. Entirely and utterly too much, to the point where they broke up. To the point where one of them would scream; “ _ I just don’t love you anymore! _ ” 

 

But time has a way of making things work. 

 

Because four years later, Dan was stumbling into the Fayecastle to get away from the rain and Phil was quickly brought into his life again. 

 

It’s not soft and neat and kind and thoughtful all the time. Nothing ever is. Sometimes they forget to communicate properly or they’re too selfish or they don’t think before doing something. 

 

But at the end of the day; love is what matters, isn’t it?

 

And at the end of the day; they’re in love.

 

-

 

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” 

 

“I know. I love you too. So, so much.” 

 

-

 

Two years after they have that conversation, Phil sits down in the corner of his and Dan’s bookshop, near the back where there are still a few wilted and sad-looking plants. It’s near the middle of the night, and Phil has just come inside from looking at the stars. The shop is lit up faintly with fairy lights and it’s something out of a fairytale, what with soft music playing through his headphones. His laptop is sitting on his lap, unopened. 

 

Somewhere upstairs Dan is asleep; though soon enough he’ll wake up and go up to the roof first to look for Phil, and then come down to the bookshop, settling in down beside Phil, resting his head on his fiance’s shoulder and letting Phil’s even breaths lull him to sleep. 

 

He owes a lot to the Fayecastle. There’s piles of books everywhere. They’re filling every nook and cranny. They’re stacked high on the ground, they’re stuffed into the bookshelves, barely in any sort of order. 

 

He opens his laptop, a blank word document coming to life before his eyes. A deep breath. 

 

There’s no place better to write then surrounded by thousands of stories and the man who he loves with his entire heart. 

 

-

  
  


_ You’re everything, you know that, right?  _

_ It’s you, it’s always been you.   _

_ And all I ever want is for you to be the happiest version of yourself.  _

 

_ I love you. _

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic would not have been possible if not for several people who helped me along the way. This is dedicated to them. This includes, but it not limited to: Jupi, the best beta I could have ever hoped for. Kaiya, an amazing singer/songwriter who blew me away with how perfect she could capture my writing in a song. My dog, Cara, for y'know just being there. And my best friend and more, Elliot, who's always there for me. Oh and to Dan and Phil because without those awkward long noodle boys I would never have written this. 
> 
> This is my last fic for the phandom, so this is Cas, signing out.
> 
> Thanks.
> 
> And to anybody wondering, here's a link to the 'real life' [Fayecastle](http://www.sidneybooktown.ca/bookshops/the-haunted-bookshop/)


End file.
